User blog comment:Biggren/The Northern March/@comment-3135907-20130404201050/@comment-32303-20130412162803

"Ah'm sorry, ah wasnae expectin' that tae happen, Skip. . . . ."

The Highlander grabs her claymore, whirls to the closest tree and makes a vicious swing, venting her rage as she berates herself verbally. "Pykestryker, ye idjit! Yore old da tol' ye when ye were a cub tae nae go en the water withoot checkin' for danger an' what'd ye dae noo?! Almost get yerself kilt?! Idjit!"